


Encounters with the Dark Muse: Part I

by brainofck



Series: Encounters with the Dark Muse [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Non Consensual, PWP, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brainofck/pseuds/brainofck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Sean get here? And where did Viggo come from?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Encounters with the Dark Muse: Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Slash is fiction. So while we may all be demented, slash is basically the author's own porno script, populated by the individuals she feels would be ideal to fill the various roles if she ruled the universe if she were ever fortunate enough have the opportunity to bring her vision to the screen.
> 
> I'd also like to note that this was my very first thing I ever wrote ever, in 2005. A long time ago.

Sean had awoken in the clothes he had been wearing at the club the night before, well rested and very confused.

He had been in a small room that looked like an overly-ambitious set decorator's idea of a harem – silks and brocades in jewel tones. An entire wall was a mirror. From years of working with wardrobe designers, he had known the room was done in "his colors." And he had known with a sickening kind of certainty that he was on display.

His first reaction had been fear and humiliation. But the fear had quickly turned to rage, and when three troll-sized men arrived and informed him that he had been selected by one of the "guests," Sean had done some damage. A fair number of the Ukrainian extras on Sharpe had been former Soviet military, and Sean knew more about fighting dirty than Richard Sharpe himself.

But after a brief, nasty struggle one of his captors had landed a vicious kidney punch. As he'd collapsed forward, he'd taken a knee to the sternum and trapped between pain and struggling to breathe, he'd realized he'd lost.

So now Sean found himself face down, wrists bound to the bedposts, an obscenely wide spreader between his knees and his cock in a ring that felt snug despite the fact that he'd never felt less aroused in his life. His hips were over a bolster that held his ass high enough in the air to put some pressure on his chest. He'd caught sight of the room before they’d blindfolded him. Whoever had "selected" him wanted a little romance with his rape, Sean supposed. Beautiful huge carved bed, room lit only by fireplace and candles. Sean felt a creeping wave of nausea and with a brief flash of panic wondered if he would die like this – suffocate on his own vomit behind the gag.

He'd never suffered much from stage fright, but now he reached back to RADA for every trick he could remember to steady his breathing, bring down his heart rate, push back the feeling of desperation. Then he heard the door open and someone enter the room. He knew he would be sick as soon as his captor touched him.

He heard a long, shuddering sigh, then a familiar voice said, "Seeing him change after a day at work is a lot different than seeing him staked out in the firelight waiting for me to fuck him."

Viggo? Sean nearly whimpered with relief. No, he did whimper, he heard it himself, and it sounded pathetic and helpless and needy. If it weren't for the blindfold, he'd be weeping, too. It didn’t matter why Viggo was here. He could trust Viggo. Viggo wouldn't let anything else bad happen to him.

"Shhh," Viggo was beside and above him now, "you know I would never hurt you."

The first touch was to the bruise low on Sean's back. Delicate, careful and it sent a startling thrill through Sean that he was sure Viggo must have actually been able to see. 

"I'm so sorry," Viggo murmured. 

That delicate touch trailed up Sean's back, tracing the curve of his waist, the lines of his torso, up his neck to his jaw. As Viggo's fingers lingered over the gag, Sean leaned up into the touch and _goddammit_ he whimpered again, tugging on the bonds at his wrists, wordlessly begging to be released.

Viggo stroked his hair, as if to soothe him. 

"They have to stay. I’m sorry about that, too." 

Then Viggo ran his hand down over Sean's neck, a broad, slow _possessive_ stroke down his spine, a stroke that continued over the curve of his buttocks, and the panic was returning. Viggo's fingertips trailed down the center, dipped low between his spread thighs, grazed whisper-like over his balls, and Sean's body was accepting it, begging for it, flushing and swelling, and who was he to tell his dick that the person touching him was the wrong shape, the wrong sex, the wrong person? _And by the way, dick, if you do that while wearing a cock ring you’re gonna amputate yourself?_ God, Viggo was going to fuck him, and Sean apparently wanted this desperately, and was the panic because Viggo was going to fuck him, or was it fear that Viggo might stop and set him free after all?

Viggo's long caress came to its logical conclusion, gentle over the back of his knee, pausing again at the binding there, down over his calf, the sole of his foot, and off his toes. 

Then Viggo was gone, and Sean held his breath, trying to tell just by listening what his friend was doing. He heard drawers opening and closing and a muttered snarl that he suspected was a curse in some language Sean didn’t speak. A long, quiet pause, then Viggo was back, and not standing by the bed, but on the bed over him, settling on all fours above him.

"The bitch left us plenty of lube, but not a condom to be found." 

Viggo's breath was moist and warm against his ear. Then he bent over a bit more, and a hot weight pressed lightly against Sean's ass, slipping, nestling, throbbing in its natural home. Sean groaned this time, and Viggo gave a breathless chuckle against his neck before he bit him. A gentle fucking caress of a bite right at the top of his spine, that caused him to squirm and gasp and this time it was Viggo's turn to groan.

Lips, teeth, tongue and _Jesus_ stubble, slipping and rubbing and biting down his spine, following the path of Viggo's earlier long caress, stopping to lick and bite and suck between his shoulder blades for what seemed like _hours_ and Sean realized that Viggo was leaving a mark where no one else would see, where makeup wouldn't complain, that only they would know about, and he whimpered and squirmed again.

When the licking path resumed, Viggo was sliding down against him, his rough body hair suddenly a torment of sensation against Sean's flushed skin, but not enough to distract Sean from the traveling of Viggo's cock, pressing lower and lower in his cleft, briefly pressing hard against his hole before slipping down over his balls and then gone as Viggo's body slipped farther and farther down between his thighs and Viggo's tongue replaced his dick in the cleft of Sean's ass.

He was sure he screamed then. Viggo's tongue was hot on him, licking long paths from the small of his back to the root of his dick and back. It was Viggo's tongue that found the cock ring and that brought him up with a grunt of surprise. 

Viggo snarled again, some word Sean didn't know, and with no further warning popped the snap on the leather ring.

Sean screamed again and came harder than he could ever remember coming in his entire life. He must have passed out, because suddenly Viggo was draped over him, a full-body press, husky sweet nothings in Sean's ear, trembling hand petting his hair. When Sean recovered enough to actually understand English again, it wasn't English at all, and Sean sighed and shifted and wondered when, exactly, he'd so completely lost touch with sanity?

But Viggo was moving again, and Sean gave up on reality for the moment, focused on the feel of Viggo pressing against his entrance. Sean knew how this was supposed to be done. You didn't need to have sex with guys to know how to get your cock up someone's ass, and Viggo hadn't stretched him, hadn't lubed him, hadn't done anything… But he had, hadn't he? Sean was slick and wet with saliva and loose and relaxed from orgasm, and Viggo was pressing carefully, but relentlessly. The bolster held Sean's hips at the perfect angle. When Viggo finally pushed in, Sean sobbed and was thankful for the gag, because it meant that he couldn't humiliate himself by begging Viggo just to fuck him, get it over with, and Sean pushed back for more without thinking.

Viggo groaned and held back, refusing to move, refusing to hurt him. The pressure was perfect, but somehow, instinctively, Sean's inexperienced body knew there was more, and he was reflexively trying to fuck himself on Viggo's hardness, until Viggo gave a little involuntary thrust that carried him just far enough and they moaned together; Viggo from the tightness on his cock, Sean from the shock of the touch to his sweet spot. 

And it spiraled away from them. Careful small movements becoming long slow pumps, becoming assertive thrusts. Sean was hardly breathing anymore as Viggo pounded into him, completely absorbed in the unfamiliar weight and movement, praying for the end and hoping it would go on forever.

Viggo gave one, two, three hard shoves, stiffened and whimpered and Sean felt the pulse of Viggo's climax inside him. The strangeness of it, the sudden understanding of what was happening, was enough to finish Sean for the second time in half an hour, and he came helplessly into the cushion, breathing hard through his nose and this time he was crying into the silk over his eyes.

Viggo collapsed on top of him, sweaty and warm and heaving. Sean imagined that he could feel the other man's heart beating against his back. And he fell asleep that way, with Viggo still inside him, lulled by his friend's breath on his neck.

Sean woke up, feeling well rested and very confused. When he sat up he was stretchy and sore in the strangest places. And he wasn't in his own clothes, he was in Viggo's, but he wasn't in a strange bed, he was in his own.

On the comforter next to him lay a clear DVD case, with a plain, unmarked disc inside. It was tagged "Happy Birthday."

With a trembling hand, he reached for his cell phone by the side of the bed and dialed Mem 5 and waited for Viggo to answer.


End file.
